


spineless laugh

by PsychicBananaSplit



Series: after klaus got out of the mausoleum [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead People, Everything Hurts, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Talking To Dead People, Telekinesis, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 09:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicBananaSplit/pseuds/PsychicBananaSplit
Summary: klaus is known in the family for his rampant, emotional outbursts that seemingly come out of nowhere. probably from the drugs. probably from the alcohol.only ben knew the signs that something was deeply wrong afterwards.and, in retrospect, they all should have treated both vanya and klaus better.





	1. is there something that i don't know?

**Author's Note:**

> this series is totally unplanned, so uploads will be unevenly released. that, and i’m in school, and homework. hahaha.  
> also, there is no specific timeline, the last one was when they were around seventeen years old, so a year before (i think, anyway) ben died. and this one is set after the events of season one, a few months after they get settled in the new time they’re in (1994).

Things weren’t so bad. Ghosts didn’t haunt him wherever he went as often. Ben was kind of alive, Klaus still didn’t know how that whole thing works. Like, yeah, he has telekinesis, that’s new. What else is new? Allison lost her voice completely, she’s learning how to use her power through sign language. Vanya woke up from her month long coma. Five went back to being a hermit, writing all these algebratic thoughts he had, the graphs and equations that no-one understood. Also, they went back to 1994.

All of these new things happening, you’d think it would absolutely blow somebody’s mind, right? Nope, just another day for the Hargreeves Household. Everything was perfectly, always unusual. 

So why was Klaus about to have a complete meltdown? Luther. Luther is the reason.

* * *

 

_ “You hurt Allison!” Luther was pacing along the wall, and Klaus watched  from the hallway that Vanya had flinched. The house was shaking like a snowglobe in the hands of a child, and he couldn’t tell if it was Vanya or Luther’s booming voice doing it. _

_ Diego stepped forward, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. “Luther, lay off. It was an accident.” _

_ “I understand that,” Luther spoke as if to a kid. “But if she ever gets out of hand again, who will she hurt next? Me? You? Five? If he dies, we will have no way of getting back.” _

_ Hearing his name, Five had strolled up from behind Ben, craning his neck to see what was going on.  _

_ “We need to restrain her.” _

_ “We  _ _ need  _ _ to fix this. We need to understand her powers before we take action.” _

_ "That could take months, years to do! And if you haven’t noticed, we don’t have that kind of time!” _

_ Allison had been writing furiously on her pad of paper for a while now, and nobody payed any mind to the scratching of her pen.  _

_ Honestly, Klaus would have cheered on their argument (if he had been high/drunk/out of his mind at the time), but he also couldn’t help the ever creeping whispers from behind him. He froze.  _ **_klaus……..Klauuuuus._ **

_ Vanya sat down, tears now streaming down her face. Apparently the shaking hadn’t been her fault. A blue sheen is covering the room. Klaus coudn’t possibly care less. _

**_Klauuuuuuuuuuuuussssssssssssssss…….._ **

_ His head started to ache terribly.  _

_ “You know,” he slurred. “You’re just like dad, Luther.” _

* * *

 

 

Luther scoffed at the insinuation. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, Mr. Bossman, Daddy’s little Number One,  you putting people in locked boxes seems to be a lot like the shit that  _ Sir Reginald  _ did when we were kids.” Instead of the chilled feel of the dead, he felt a solid hand on his shoulder, and Ben gave him a warning. Klaus shoved his hand off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Diego and Allison stiffen at even the mention of their father (who they would have to meet again soon enough).

“If I hadn’t subdued her sooner, the Apocalypse would kill everyone. Pogo and Mom had already died!”

Low blow.

“If you hadn’t of put her in that prison, there wouldn’t be an Apocalypse at all!” His hands feverishly trembled at his sides, a blue glow illuminating them. The lights seemed to dim in comparison to the turquoise luminescence. 

Or maybe they were  _ actually  _ dimming.

“Klaus, calm down-”

His eyes flared. “No! I won’t calm down!” He straightened his back, attempting to look tougher to the taller male. He furiously jabbed a finger at Luther’s direction. “ _ You  _ are the real reason any of this happened.  _ You  _ are the cause of  _ all  _ of our problems, Luther. You didn’t even have a  _ plan  _ to stop Vanya from destroying  _ the whole world.  _ You know what, I take that back,” he held his hands up in mock defense. “Comparing you to Dad would be an insult to  _ him.  _ At least he was  _ smart enough  _ to manipulate us for almost eighteen years!”

It may have been instinct, or his powers, or his mere ten months in Vietnam, but when Luther tried to punch him out of rage, Klaus blocked his fist and punched him in the face with all the force he could possibly muster. Everyone, even Klaus, jumped at Number One’s impact with the floor, blood dripping sluggishly out of his nose. The forming black-purple-blue bruise on the left side of his face made Diego wince.

It seemed like everything was in slow motion. Everyone flinched when the suddenly noticeable  _ floating objects  _ burst. Broke. And, instead of slow motion, everything froze.

Ben tugged Klaus back to his room by the sleeve of his jacket. The clairvoyant saw the horrified look on Vanya’s face. The worried, desperate look on Allison’s. And Five’s ever indifferent stare. 

Before he knew it he was in his dark, dank, dusty room. Curtains always closed, walls always the same shade of gray. His bed was messy and never made. Floor never cleaned.

It reminded him, for a split second, of the crypt. 

**_Klauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuussssssssssssssssssssssssssss-_ **

“What the  _ fuck  _ was that?” Ben sat him down to give him a lecture.  _ If Luther didn’t exist, Ben would be a likely candidate for being just like the stubborn bastard himself. Lectures. Pfft, that’s the kind of thing that Dad exceeded in. _

_ “ _ I believe that that, my friend, was a fist fight. Or, rather, a punch, not a full out battle.” He tried to reach under his bed for the bottle of whiskey, then remembered that Ben had thrown it out yesterday. Klaus groaned in frustration. 

Ben paid no mind to his antics and scoffed. “First of all, friend? Really? You know that we are  _ so much more  _ than that, you shithead.” Klaus snickered. “Second, you got all upset about Vanya being in her cell. Why was that? Is there something that I don’t know?” Klaus silenced. Ben's gaze softened from frustration to sympathy, because he was Ben. He sat beside him on his mattress. Cradled his hand in his own. The other cold, clammy hand swiping his curls away from his eyes. Klaus sighed dejectedly. 

_ The room reminded him of the voices. The whispers, the yells, the shouts, the screams. _

_ The faces that were branded onto his mind.  _

 

 

 


	2. memories and “i’m sorry’s”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> klaus tells ben everything that he did not in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally have no excuses, please forgive me  
> also, this is literally one of the longest things i’ve written on here holyfuckingshitwtf

_ Klaus remembers several moments from his childhood. Some of them, when he wasn’t even Klaus, still just “Number Four.” Some, that the others didn't even recall.  _

_ One, for instance, was when Mom decided to get a bicycle for Diego on their fifth birthday. He remembers how a boy, the one with the missing eye, his arm in a sling, and the shiteating grin that was always on his young, too young, eleven year old face. When the boy had pushed Diego off his bike, Klaus had tried to tell Dad that he didn’t do it, that Sammy did it. No-one saw Sammy, except for Klaus. And it confused him. He wondered, is this just some cruel joke? Wasn’t Sammy real? He looked real. At least, Klaus thought he looked real. _

_ But when did anyone pay any attention to what Klaus thought? _

_ It wasn’t until when he was fourteen that he found out who Sammy was. Apparently, Samuel Hart was born sometime in 1983, and was assumed to be kidnapped by his stepdad when he was nine. Two years later, the police found his body, along with the stepdad; he shot himself. Apparently, Samuel had been physically, mentally and sexually abused by his stepdad, and that’s why his mom got a divorce.  _

_ Klaus didn’t understand. He didn’t even pay much attention, he was so drunk from his  _ father’s  _ stolen liquor. _

_ - _

_ Klaus also remembers the moment before he was thrown into the crypt. The mausoleum. The home of all people and creatures that used to have a heartbeat, and now desperately want it  _ **_back right Now Klaus Please Give Us What We Want Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssssssse._ **

_ Klaus remembers walking in a foggy, rainy, grimy, desolate, overall dead, graveyard. He remembers not knowing why he was there. _

_ “Dad, where are we? What are we really doing?” _

_ He got the biting, bitter, terse response of: “I told you many times, Number Four. I am Sir Reginald to you.”  _

_ He never got answers to anything, anymore. _

_ They continued to walk on the wet, while at the same time dusty and dry, ground that was now so unpleasant beneath his feet. He imagined it would sink from underneath himself, take him into the Earth, leave him to rot in the dirt like the rest of these tortured souls. The mausoleum (that’s a new word that he learned from the countless dictionaries he has to read) drew closer to the father and son, brisk steps over to the very center of the thing that Klaus despised.  _

_ “Number Four, you will have to stay here overnight. In the morning, I will come to get you, and if you are not fully adjusted to your abilities, then you will spend another evening.” _

_ Klaus nodded. He didn’t fully understand. He thought that they were going on a mission together. He thought that they would come back home soon.  _

_ When he didn’t respond to his orders he was thrown into the dark depths of the, essentially, cement box. And the door shut with a loud  _ **boom.**

_ He didn’t know what was going on. It was dark. It was scary. It shamed Klaus that he was still afraid of the dark. Really, regardless of the amount of light, he was always afraid of the voices that he never really understood. Well, speak of the Devil and He shall appear. _

**_Klaus, Klaus,_ **

**_Help Us_ **

**_Klaauuuuusssss……_ **

**_Klaus_ **

**_Klaus_ **

**_KLAUS_ **

_ They were already too loud. Well, they’re always too loud.  _

_ “Please, please! Stop. I want to go home! I want to go home! Dad! Let me out! Let. Me. Out! Please, Dad. Please! _

_ An old man sporting a burnt face and an eyeball that barely hung by it’s optic nerve terrified Klaus to no end. He would scream and cry and try to push himself farther into the corner he was cowering in when the man would put his face in front of his own and yell at him to tell his wife some yada yada yada bullshit.  _

_It was a very,_ **very** _long night._

_ - _

“My god,” Ben was shocked. He was hurt. He thought that Klaus had gone on a mission that went terribly wrong. At the same time, however, he wasn’t really surprised that Reginald would do that sort of thing. After all, look at what he did to Vanya. “I can’t even believe it. Well, I do, but…..man.” Fucking hell, that bastard hurt Klaus.  _ His  _ Klaus. The Thing in his stomach swirled, moving restlessly as anger surged through him. And what Klaus had told him hadn’t even been the end. 

Ben grasped Klaus’s hand tighter, and urged him to go on.

-

_ When Klaus was fourteen, he sneaked off to a shady bar near the outskirts of town. There, Father wouldn’t know where he was. He would never guess that Klaus would end up with the people that were there.  _

_ He didn’t have any money after one drink. Why did he decide to buy the most flowery, expensive drink there? He doesn’t know. He met a few people, all of which bought him drinks without question. But, after he was drunk enough to go to surgery without feeling anything, he stumbled out of the dark building, leaning against the hot bartender. He was twenty-three, though Klaus had forgotten that long ago. His hair was bleached. With his washed out skin and pale hair, he looked almost as ghostly as the actual ghosts. _

_ Klaus didn’t know where the bartender was leading him. A foggy, rainy, grimy, desolate, overall dead, alley way. Do things like this have to take place somewhere that should never exist? Dark alleys were never, ever,  _ **_ever_ ** _ a good sign for  _ **_anything._ **

_ Klaus thought he was crying when the bartender, once seemingly nice, friendly, bubbly company, pushed him up against the wall. The bricks rubbed his back unpleasantly, the hands of the pale, ghostly bartender going, touching places on his body where they should  _ **_never_ ** _ go. _

_ No amount of washing could ever take  _ **_this_ ** _ kind of dirty away. _

_ No amount of washing could ever take the graveyard of cuts on his arms away. _

_ \-  _

Ben couldn’t fucking breath. Klaus was breathing too much, taking breath that was too shallow, too fast. His heart raced a mile a minute. The hand clutching his was painfully tight, nails painfully digging crescent moon crevices on his palm. But he didn’t stop talking, he  _ couldn’t  _ stop talking. 

-

_ Klaus couldn’t fucking breath. He couldn’t fucking hear past the ringing. The sound of his heart pounding and breaking, like a bat smashing glass. He couldn’t fucking see past the tears threatening to fall, blurring his vision. Past the shattered windowpane. Past the blood. _

_ Oh, god, the blood. It was everywhere. So were the voices. So were the remains of the library. So were the remains of…….fuck. Ben. It was everywhere.  _ **_He was everywhere._ **

_ For the first time since he was eight, he cried in front of someone else besides his boyfriend. His only friend.  _

_ He couldn’t touch him. He couldn’t get his blood all over his hands, his arms, his uniform. It wouldn’t be right. He feels that it wouldn’t be right. He can’t feel anything, anyway. Pain and numbness at the same time clashed together in his mind.  _

_ He fell on his knees, bent over, leaning to rest his forehead on the dirty ground, and wept.  _

_ - _

“I’m sorry,” Klaus choked out from his tears. His body wracked with sobbing. Ben curled his arms around his partner, and Klaus continued to shrink in on himself in a very un-Klaus-like manner. 

Ben hated to see him like this. Sure, he had seen him during withdrawals, and after losing Dave, but this was something new. It was a smaller, condensed version of Klaus, that was truly open and sad and  _ vulnerable.  _ And, worse than that, Ben had no fucking clue on how to help him. 

Before he had long to think about it, Klaus backed away from their embrace and wiped at his face furiously, trying to rid of the tears and snot. “That’s everything that I never told you,” he mumbled. He paused, not daring to look Ben in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he said again. 

Ben was having absolutely none of this.

“No, don’t be sorry.  _ Don’t ever be sorry for things like this. _ ”

**Author's Note:**

> again, i suck at writing. especially anything remotely happy. the next chapter is out, hopefully, either today or tomorrow.


End file.
